As the due date draws nearer and then passes completely, you start to wonder if there’s actually a baby coming or if it’s just a bunch of dancing organs in your wife’s belly. Sure, I’d seen a few ultrasounds, spoken to a doctor or two, and felt kicks, but how do I know the movements weren’t just an insecure spleen looking for attention?

They can be quite needy.

Maybe it didn’t get enough hugs from the appendix when it was younger – who knows?

One week past my son’s allotted due date we had an appointment to assess where things were at.  The idea was to determine if we were going to have a child soon or be the first couple to experience an actual fourth trimester.

The first action taken to move labor along was what’s called a membrane sweep.  After witnessing first hand, I’ve determined it’s the most uncomfortable procedure performed in hospitals today. Of course this is exception only to an alien abduction followed by a thorough examination by an overzealous probe technician who may or may not be pictured.

Receiving a rectal exam from a doctor with pineapples for hands would be more pleasant.

I sat in amazement and ultimately came to the conclusion that my wife was way tougher than I was, however, I was probably the second person in the room to come to this conclusion.

Is this invasive barbarism supposed to induce labor or get terrorists to provide classified information of the whereabouts of the next attack? Like this is going to get her to push the baby out? This level of torture makes waterboarding look like soft kisses from furry baby animals.

At the end I thought they were going to ask her about what’s really going on in Syria, weapons of mass destruction, and the what really happened in Korea.

“So what’s next to try?” I asked facetiously. “Should we just throw stones at her or force her to watch repeated episodes of Jersey Shore until she sings like a canary? That will get her to talk – I mean deliver a baby right?”

Other things my wife tried to induce labor were eating spicy foods, walking for miles up and down hills, bouncing on a yoga ball, acupuncture, sniffing essential oils and several  various tactics she learned about from extremely reputable medical sources such as Facebook. Random bulletin boards online also provided great information from people who’d never had a baby but either had watched one episode of Sixteen and Pregnant or stayed at a Holiday Inn.

After carrying a basketball in her belly for 41 weeks, if someone told her riding on the back of an ostrich blindfolded, while eating otter pops helped, she would’ve done it. I can’t blame her.

“Have you tried having sex?” our midwife inquisitively asked.

Who is this lady, Dr. Drew? Like with each other, I thought? Can’t be right can it? There’s a baby in there!

Clearly the first human to troubleshoot the inducement process was a man.

How else would the theory that semen induces labor come to light as common practice, better yet, medical practice? How men weren’t abolished from the city entirely, and blamed for conjuring up this new sick fetish is another conundrum altogether.

The theory is absolutely preposterous but hey if it’s for the cause…

I’ve been meaning to send our midwife a box of gold coins valued at $30 million dollars for literally doing everything short of writing a sex prescription to get our baby to arrive. Who, other than me, actually benefited from this again?

Accidentally walking in on your parents having sex as a teenager is one thing, but years of psychiatric help can alleviate those mental scars. How does one recover from a penis coming straight at their head repeatedly while in utero?  I don’t think there is enough insurance in the world to cover those therapy bills.

Short of hanging out in the adjoining stall at a rest stop that George Michael frequents I don’t think there is an analogy out there comparable, otherwise as I’m sure you figured, this analogy addict would’ve written one.

It’s no wonder my son came out late. The poor kid probably thought the outside world was a game of “I’m not touching you” gone terribly inappropriate.

I can only be thankful that a child’s memory doesn’t start retaining information for at least several months, or so we hope.

We left our appointment encouraged his arrival would be very soon trusting the pineapple hands procedure did the trick.

It’s only a matter of hours, maybe even minutes at this point, we told ourselves.

He didn’t arrive for another agonizing six days.

One thing I don’t recommend is drinking when your wife could go into labor any minute, but for blogs, having a nice cold beer when reading is a great idea.

So what’s in Steve’s fridge?

Great White

Brewed by  Lost Coast Brewery Eureka, (Northern) California

Style Witbier

ABV 4.80%

Almost all of the world’s Great White Shark population are aggressive, unruly creatures. Most have anger issues and always go to bed pissed off.

The shark on the label of Great White’s bottle has created a lifestyle quite the antithesis. With a pint of suds in one fin and a surf board in the other, this laid-back fish is the envy of sharks everywhere.

At the present moment, sharks from oceans worldwide are migrating home to have word with their marine guidance counselor. While the rest of these man-eaters are braving fin-chilling waters risking tooth and gill to catch sea lions this shark is chillin’ out on the beach working on his tan and drinking habit.

Great White is a good beer. No, it’s a great beer. Scratch that, it’s stupendous. (I think that’s better than great).

Each sip makes you want to grab your buddies, a volleyball and cooler and trek to a beach, park, barbecue, festival, or anywhere the sun is shining and good music is playing. This beer is a great alternative to the bland domestics typically consumed as daytime brews.

This isn’t your typical lager. You can catch earthy flavors, or hints of pepper, clove, citrus with each swig. There’s even a lemony, almost cleaning product taste that hits you at the end of each gulp. Don’t fret. That’s normal, unless you forgot to fully rinse your glass. In that case, you’re actually drinking cascade and may want to contact someone about that before you convulse.

You can find this pretty much anywhere these days- BevMo, supermarkets, and in a few bars here and there.  It’s becoming quite popular. Just watch your back for any sharks lurking in the beer aisle ready to attack, their jealously for the surfboard-toting shark on the label too much to bear.

Fun Fact: Witbiers are a Belgian style beer with a high level of wheat and cloudy in appearance.  Coriander which is essentially cilantro, orange peels, and a variety of other spices typically make up these types of beers.

If you liked this post (i mean who wouldn’t) check out these recent gems:

Foreskin Optional 

Assume The Position 

We’re Having a Penis